Through a Long and Sleepless Night
by Alexandria Malfoy
Summary: He chanced upon it much like the others did. Wandering through the streets of Dublin, trying to get away from the bloody awful mess he created back home. D/G
1. Chapter 1

Through a Long and Sleepless Night – Chapter 1

He chanced upon it much like the others did.

By simply wandering about the streets of Dublin; somewhat safe from the bloody awful mess he created back home.

The older man accompanying him on his Irish holiday was holed up in their cramped room, fast asleep when the younger man slipped out, tired of the tedium.

It was in the alley just outside of their room – a mere sliver of trampled brick and garbage. The most unexpected of places for finding anything worthwhile.

When most people find something they weren't exactly looking for, they might say that they "stumbled upon it". In his case, this phrase was quite literal.

As he dropped down from the stair's ladder onto the cobbled street below, he lost his footing, slipping and tripping, falling backwards into what should have been a solid stone wall -- a wall that would have knocked the wind out of him. So when he fell right through the wall, as though he was going beyond the veil, he flailed even more, trying to grasp onto something, anything, as he made his decent into the darkness.

An obsidian, peerless darkness. One where he couldn't see mere centimetres in front of him. Where it felt like he was slowly floating back down to the surface of the earth, light as a feather, moving through liquid silk, his eyes and hair shining like beacons in the totality of that endless night.

He landed on solid ground with an almost feline grace – feet first, bending his knees to cushion the fall, holding his arms out next to him to steady himself. He wobbled a bit before freezing in the position that he landed in, turning his head to assess his surroundings.

Still darkness; as though he were dropped onto a blank canvas. Suddenly, some semblance of scenery began to form around him. Up ahead he saw it; slowly coming into focus as he hastened toward it -- a sprawling field, an inky black lake, a foreboding forest. And then he really saw it: the imposing oak doors latticed with iron and fortified by enchantments, the towers with their tiled steeples, the worn stone steps leading up to the threshold. It was a place he called home. He knew its passages, its rooms, and its most secret of places - it was both beautiful and frightening.

To be back was impossible. There were no bodies strewn across a blood-splattered lawn. There were no cloaked figures battling a battalion of teenagers. There was no sign of life.

He glanced behind him, seeing the way that he came: a swirl of black hovering a metre behind him.

He didn't know where he was, but he had a feeling that knowing the way back would come very much in handy.

Satisfied, he made his way to the doors of the castle, pushing them open with relative ease.

Inside, there was life. Students and teachers milling about, all heading toward a set of open double doors. Cocking his head, he followed, spotting a couple of his friends in the crowd.

The closest one was a fair, raven-haired girl; an emerald green ribbon pulling her hair away from her face. He reached out, hoping to tap her on the shoulder, alert her to his presence, only to have his hand float through her body; whispers of matter fluttering away from his solid hand like smoke.

He stared at his hand in shock, turning it around over and over, inspecting it at various ranges.

He turned to a boy next to him, this time curling his hand into a fist, going for the boy's stomach.

And just like before, his fist went through; as though the punched boy were a ghost.

He ploughed through the crowd, stepping through each foggy apparition until he finally entered the hall.

He started for his table only to halt in his tracks, unnerved at the sight of seeing himself already seated at the table. He sucked in a sharp breath, wondering just what the hell was going on.

The only reasonable thing he thought to do was to stay put, lest his doppelganger move on elsewhere.

After five minutes, the doppelganger rose from the table, exited the hall and ran up the stairs just outside of the large room.

He followed on, stopping just as he saw his double enter a room whose doors vanished upon his arrival.

It very quickly became all too familiar, and the blond boy slumped to the ground, willing the nightmare to end. For that's what it was: a nightmare. A night terror that had been plaguing his sleep since the day he ran from his home land; forcing him to relive that night over and over again anytime he dared to close his eyes. He knew what was going to happen next, knew every detail, and he couldn't bear to stay and watch his crimes.

Springing up, he ran blindly down the hall, rushing toward the stairwell.

He turned a corner, running into someone.

The force of it caused him to fall back, landing rather ungracefully on his arse; the other person following suit.

He looked up to see a girl around his age, wearing shorts and an oversized shirt. Her thick auburn hair was pulled back into a ponytail; her side-sweeping fringe partially covering one eye in that moment.

She huffed, taking a hand and moving her fringe out of her face so she could see. Upon seeing who she bumped into, her face contorted itself into a look of both anger and confusion.

"Malfoy?" she spat, scrambling to get up. "What are you doing in my dream?"

"Weasley?" the blond boy asked, just as equally confused as the girl, though, not nearly as enraged. "What do you mean i_'your dream/i'_? This is most certainly i_my dream/i_. And how do you even know you're dreaming?"

"Just like you know that you're dreaming. They're called lucid dreams -- a dream in which the person dreaming consciously knows that they are having a dream," she replied as though she were quoting something from a textbook. "Besides, I'm in my pyjamas, so I know that I have to be dreaming. Why I'm having this dream in particular, though, is beyond me. What day exactly am I dreaming about?"

The blond boy gave her the once over. "You call those pyjamas? I thought that was your everyday attire. And I know that I'm not dreaming because I literally stepped into the dream. Plus, by your logic, I'd be wearing my pyjamas, too. And the day that you're dreaming about is the day that my life went to hell."

"What do you mean you 'stepped into' this dream? And are you referring to the day that you sent dozens of Death Eaters loose upon Hogwarts?"

"I mean that I stepped into this dream. And yes; that day."

"Oh," she breathed, scrunching her eyebrows together, trying to process what he said. "I'm afraid I still don't understand how I'm able to talk to you though. I haven't been able to talk to anyone in this dream. None of the times that I've had this dream have I been able to. I just walk around, watching the events unfold over and over again. I want to stop having this dream, but I don't know how."

"How are you having a dream of mine? And a recurring dream of mine, at that?"

"I don't know. I thought I made it clear that I didn't know a whole lot about wherever the hell we are?"

She turned away, bothered by the boy's attitude and his constant questioning. Giving him one last glance over her shoulder, she began walking toward the stairwell, determined to find a way to wake up.

The boy, still on the ground, leaped up, trailing her. He was far from finished with her.

"What do you know about this place?" he called out, causing her to stop halfway down the stairs.

"Not much. The only thing I'm certain about is that I'm dreaming. And this is slowly becoming a nightmare, since I found you, so if you would excuse me, I'm trying to wake myself up." And with a curt nod to him, she was off again, bounding down toward the entrance hall.

He followed her again, taking the steps two at a time to keep up with her brisk pace. He reached the hall before her, blocking her path as she stopped on the last step.

"Don't you want to know why I'm the only person that you've been able to talk to?" he asked, nearly spitting his words out.

"Well, I _am_ curious, but because it involves you, I'm kind of afraid as to what that reason would be. I don't want to hear any of this 'true love' or you're 'on a mission' nonsense. I don't think I have the patience for that. Plus, I'd rather not lose my dinner, even if it is in the figurative sense. If you are in this dream in the real, physical sense, clean-up would be an absolute pain in the arse."

She moved to the side, trying to walk past him, but he mirrored her motions, determined to get some answers.

"Do you want me to prove to you that I'm here in the real, physical sense?" He held out his hand, his eyes flicking between his hand and her face. She started to reach for his hand, slowly raising one of her own, stopping just before she grasped his. "You'll be fine. I can't really hurt you. I don't have a wand, and like you said, clean up would be an absolute pain in the arse," he insisted, smirking as she finally wrapped her fingers around his palm.

"If something happens to me while I'm still asleep, Malfoy, I will hunt your scrawny arse down and make sure that no one finds the pieces."

The boy twitched a little, before calmly raising an eyebrow. "Oh, you wound me, Weasley, you really do."

She glared at him, but held fast to his hand, waiting for him to move.

After a careless shrug at her withering look, he ran, pulling her along, forcing her to lengthen her strides to keep up with his already long legs. They burst through students and teachers alike, waving their hands in front of their faces as they passed through the corporeal fog.

He let go of her somewhere on the stairs that led to the lawn just outside the doors of the castle, trying to remember which direction he originally came from. He paused for a moment at the bottom of the stone steps, looking in every direction before he saw the glimmering vortex near the forest, blending in with the surroundings.

She turned her head toward the horizon, taking note of the setting sun; the fair blue sky melting away into a burst of crimsons, violets, oranges, and cornflower blues. She looked back to the blond boy, his hair blending into his pale skin in the evening light.

"Where are we going?" she asked, stepping down beside him.

He pointed toward the forest, calling her attention to the swirling vortex of black at its very edge.

"What is that?"

He turned to her, a passing breeze whipping his hair and the leaves at his feet. "That's the reason why I'm here. That's where I came from."


	2. Chapter 2

Through a Long and Sleepless Night – Chapter 2

She walked ahead of him, toward the swirl of black.

It glistened in the fading sun as screams could be heard from inside the castle. Near the forest's edge, cloaked figures popped up, seeming to hover amongst the dirt and tree roots. They held their ground, waiting for some form of signal.

The pair of teens turned as the castle's doors were blasted open, more and more of the cloaked figures pouring out onto the school's grounds as though they were a plague, blackening the grass with showers of soil and torn fabric from their spells' blasts. Already the earth was becoming caked with blood as the fighters lost limbs or suffered serious wounds.

She looked up to the sky, noticing a patch of clouds looming near the North Tower, blocking her view of Orion.

He glanced at her, wondering as to how she was able to live through this dream night after night, getting to the point where she's adapted to it and is no longer troubled by it, but simply sees it as a minor inconvenience to her slumber.

"How do you do it?"

She did not stop staring at the constellation, merely motioned him to stand beside her.

"I never realized how lovely the sky looked on this particular night. It's so deceitful to the events that happened underneath it, don't you think?" She paused, finally dropping her gaze to regard him. "And I don't know how I can stand it. I suppose it's one of those situations where you realize that there's nothing that you can do about it, so you relegate yourself to having to live with it. Maybe I was meant to have this dream. Maybe I was just waiting for you to show up."

"Why would you be waiting for me? You hate me."

"Excuse me for the cliché, but hate is such a strong word. I strongly dislike you, but we don't know enough about each other to truly hate one another. We only know what our parents have taught us through generations of familial loathing. Hell, I doubt our parents know the true reason why our families can't stand the sight of each other. I mean, sure; you can be an absolute prick, but so can Ron and many of the boys that I've dated. But I don't hate them. Besides, we're wizarding folk. Strange, unexplainable shit is our M.O. I decided to accept that fact a long time ago. You might want to as well."

He tried to bite back a chuckle, but failed as his amusement cracked through in the form of a wry smile. She smirked, giving him a sidelong glance before speaking again.

"So how, exactly, did you get here?"

He sighed, looking at her through narrowed eyes, attempting to discern whether she would be loyal or not.

"I can trust you Gryffindor types, right?"

"I dunno," she replied with a shrug. "Depends on what you intend on trusting me with. If it's your current location, well, I won't tell anyone. It's not like they'd listen to me anyway," she finished, bitterly, he noticed.

"Alright. Here goes. I'm trusting you with this, Weasley. Try not to fuck up." She glared at him, but he continued on before she opened her mouth to say something. "I'm in Dublin right now. I'm staying at some piece of shit, hole in the wall Muggle inn with Severus. I got bored today and snuck out when he was asleep. There's this ladder connected to the side of the building next to our window and as I was climbing down it, I slipped, lost my footing and fell down. I expected my arse to become friendly with the cobbled pavement below me, but, instead, I fell through this portal, and lo and behold, I found you of all people."

"Do you know anything else about this portal of yours?"

He shook his head, glancing back to the topic of their discussion. His eyes widened and he paled, fidgeting next to her.

"Oh, fuck," he swore, scowling.

"What's wrong?"

"I – I have to go. The portal – it's closing. Shit. I don't want to be stuck here. Swear you're not going to tell anyone my whereabouts?" he asked, heading toward the portal.

"Yes, yes. I swear. Now get going!" She giggled a bit, amused at how flustered he had become.

He gave her a brief nod. "Thanks, Weasley," he muttered before flashing her a smile. Another nod and he dove into the portal, the swirling black oval fading, waving and fluttering in front of her, reminding her of the veil.

* * * * * * * *

"Malfoy!"

Ginny awoke with a start, pale, her cheeks flushed as she broke out in a cold sweat. Her breathing was shallow and heavy, and she placed a hand on her chest, hoping to even out the shuddering rhythm of her respiration. She scrambled, flinging her sheet and comforter off of her body, kicking the bundle of blankets down to the foot of her bed. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on top, staring ahead at her dresser.

"Ginny!"

A sharp knock rapped against her door. She didn't acknowledge it and kept staring at the wall.

"Ginny! Are you okay?"

Another knock.

That seemed to bring her out of her trance. She fidgeted slightly, shaking her head before answering. "Come in."

Hermione threw open the door, wand at the ready, the tip lit as she waved it around the room, searching for any intruders. Seeming to be satisfied, she ran over to Ginny, gripped her shoulder and peered into her eyes, sticking her face in front of the other girl's.

"Are you okay? I heard you scream 'Malfoy' and thought that you saw someone in here." Hermione took a step back, raking her eyes up and down Ginny's frame. "You don't look so good. Are you sick? Do you want me to fetch your mum?"

"No, no; I'm fine. I just had a dream, is all." Ginny shook her head as she responded, waving Hermione off with her hand.

"Are you sure? Was it a bad dream?"

Ginny sighed. For once, she felt like the boy she stumbled upon in her dream (reality, for him), and understood how he thought Hermione's inquisitive nature to be annoying. She opened and closed her mouth several times, gaping as she attempted to figure out a way to explain the situation to her friend.

"I'm positive. And it wasn't a bad dream, per se. I don't know how to explain it, really."

Hermione sat on a corner of Ginny's bed, reaching a hand out and laying it on Ginny's shoulder once more. "Was it about the Chamber?" she whispered. Ginny looked to her, noting how her friend's eyes were cast to the ground, unable to make eye contact. Hermione glanced up, feeling the other girl's amber eyes upon her and quickly backpedalled. "I only ask because I know that Lucius Malfoy was the one who gave you the diary. I understand if you don't want to talk about it."

With that, she stood, racing toward the door, clutching onto her still-lit wand.

"Hermione, wait."

The brunette paused at the door, holding onto it, but kept her back to Ginny, turning her head so the redhead saw only her profile. "Yes?"

"I don't mind talking about my dream. But not right now. I still need to process exactly what happened. But once I've thought about it, I'll come and find you. I didn't mean to turn you away like that when you were just trying to help."

"I understand. And thanks," Hermione replied with a smile. "Go back to sleep, Ginny. I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay. Night, 'Mione."

Ginny watched as Hermione closed the door, waiting for the soft click of the lock before getting out of bed, walking over to the single window in her room. She leaned against one side of the frame, looking up towards the moon.

The night sky resembled the darkness in her dream – white pinpricks ticked across a blanket of obsidian fringed with cobalt and violet. The moon hung high, a silvery white beacon. She supposed that could be how she would find him from then on: the colour of the moon is the colour of his hair, fading into his fair complexion.

She searched harder and found what she was looking for: Orion. She hadn't been able to spot him in her dreams and seeing the famous constellation allowed for a sort of peaceful lull to settle over her. She smiled, albeit weakly, as she felt her eyelids droop.

With one last, longing look at both the moon and Orion, she shuffled back to her bed, crawling onto her mattress. She sat up momentarily, grasping the blankets from where she kicked them to and shook them out, allowing them to rest over her entire body. She turned onto her side, placing herself in the direct view of the window.

She struggled to stay awake, realizing that she wanted to remember where he said he currently was. She attempted to lift herself up in bed, but was too tired to do so, and had to settle for simply lifting her head. In a matter of seconds, her head plopped back down onto her pillow, the force of sleep too strong for her to forestall.

Her eyelids kept drooping, closing several times before she cracked them open, knowing that if she did not remember in that moment, that she would never be able to recall it in the morning.

"D. It starts with a 'D'. And it's someplace relatively close by." She yawned, turning her head away from the window, staring up at the ceiling. She narrowed her eyes, sifting through her sleep-addled brain for the name of the place. She turned her head back, giving up for the night.

She was mumbling as she fell asleep, finally uttering 'Dublin' before smiling and allowing sleep to fully claim her.


End file.
